Poem for March 26, 2032

When with the virgin morning thou dost rise,

Crossing thyself come thus to sacrifice;

First wash thy heart in innocence; then bring

Pure hands, pure habits, pure, pure every thing.

Next to the altar humbly kneel, and thence

Give up thy soul in clouds of frankincense.

Thy golden censers fill'd with odours sweet

Shall make thy actions with their ends to meet.